Fury, And All That Ensues
by Siren's Voice
Summary: Fury's mom was the infamous Sea Siren. Her old enemies have been after Fury and a few valuable belongings so she enlists the help of Captain Jack Sparrow. Please read it!
1. It started badly

I am in psycho-writer-bitch mode right now. I apologize to my editor (I SORRY:( ). This is the post-tweaking edition of my fic since it got, uh, deleted. I, uh, don't feel like writing out a disclaimer, so you know the drill: I don't own blah-blah-blah (I assume you're smart enough to figure out what is mine, although if it's a part from something else I'll say something)...To my onsite friends: Skye Agony, Guitarist of doom; Vamperfly; Twilight-la-fae; and Thousand faces...Hiya! I hope you're reading this. To everyone who is reading this: enjoy it. Or else!!!!!

It was a dark, stormy night. (I know it's too cliché, deal with it) The moon peeked out from behind passing clouds, as if tentative to show its face. The wind howled like a fitful child, banging shutters and doors, shrieking through the crevices. In port, one general store still contained flickering candle light.

A lonely vessel sailed into town. It was unmistakably a pirate's vessel; too weathered to be a merchant's ship, but with enough artillery to be a naval warship.

Inside the general store, an old man bent over a book. His skin was ancient, leathery and wrinkled like aged parchment.

"Would you like me to do inventory, Mr. 'opkins?" a girl with brown hair asked. She had been through a lot; it showed in her eyes. They were haunted eyes, like type you'd see in war refugees. She swished her waist-length, curly/wavy brunette locks. "Mr. 'opkins?"

"Oh, yes, yes, m'dear, that would be good.' The old man replied, glancing up from the ledger that he was updating. The girl turned around and entered the back storeroom, located behind the counter.

As she worked, she hummed some tune that had been stuck in her brain since forever. Quite mysteriously. There where a lot of mysterious things about her; she had showed up three months ago with absolutely nothing but a small trunk (filled with bodies!!!! (Just kidding). Mr. Hopkins had taken her in to be his assistant (hard to run things by yourself when you're an old geezer. Tee-hee) in exchange for boarding and food. Even he knew hardly anything about her. Only her name. Furana.

The door opened as two pairs of footsteps were heard to have been entering. A familiar and foreboding voice said, "We lookin' fer a girl..."

"I'm sorry, gentleman, this is no brothel house." (Old people tend to misunderstand)

"A specific one. She be nineteen an' pretty tall. Brown 'air, brown eyes... Ye saw 'er?" Furana inhaled sharply and backed against the wall, hoping that they hadn't seen her.

"Oh, sorry, I can't say that I have. So disappointed I couldn't help you." (Aaaww! That's so sweet...he's protecting her...)

"Heh-heh-heh. We sorry too." She heard the creepy laughter just before she heard the sounds of steel entering and exiting flesh, and the thud of dead wait hitting the floor. Unfortunately, she knew what that sound meant; they were back. She gasped and slid silently down the wall.

On her hands and knees, she crouched down and dared to peer out the doorway. When she saw that they were leaving, she breathed a sigh of relief. Then, she felt the hand on her shoulder. It belonged to another one of them.

So trouble dares to sneak in without knocking? She thought, I can deal. She whirled around, punching her attacker in the face before he could take a breath. He backed away, clutching the nose that she had probably just broken, giving her the chance to get up. She kicked him in the head, and then whacked him with a pewter candlestick that she had just snatched off of a shelf, knocking him unconscious.

Furana dusted off her hands. "Mess with Furana Delamar, and ye'll get your ass whipped." She proclaimed matter-of-factly, crouched down onto the floor, afterwards.

Furana pried up a small section of the floorboards, revealing a compartment underneath. In it was a sword, a pair of breeches and a trunk she changed from her skirt and underpinnings into the breeches, clipped the sword in its scabbard to her belt, and fixed her tunic. Finally, she reached for the trunk.

Opening it displayed it contents; a map, a journal, a large pistol, and a hat. Furana stuck the hat on her head. She took a well worn coat off of a hook on the wall and stuck the pistol, the map, and the journal into separate pockets.

"I'm sorry." She whispered at Mr. Hopkins' corpse. "Goodbye." She slipped out the back door into an alley way. From there, she found her way down to the docks. Furana took one last look at her home before she leaped onto a sleeping sheep and hid in their cargo hold. Once more, she had temporarily eluded the problem that plagued her.

One month later...

Furana stepped off of the boat. Idiots, she thought silently. The sailors on the ship had found. Out that she was stowing away. Rather than kill her, they had locked her in a holding cell in the cargo hold of the ship. She'd picked the lock that morning while it was dark. She strolled away, now, as the sun started to rise.

Her hair was shorter now, shoulder length, and was tied back into a matted ponytail. The knee-length coat she wore had become even more worse-for-the-wear than it had been. Scant meals had caused her to be thin, and that made her seem taller. She whistled the same tune that she had before, only now it seemed to have a sad, haunting element to it.

That night, she stood in a back alley in the pouring rain. Drenched to the bone, rivulets of water streaming down her face, she huddled in a corner. She was safe in Tortuga, for a while. But who knew for how long...

(The End)

was it good? was it bad? please review and let me know! toodles, Siren's Voice


	2. And so it begins truly

This is my very first fanfic; although I have helped friends write parts of theirs. I know that I should've written this in the first chapter, but I was excited to post it.

disclaimer thingy: my fanfic uses other literary works as bases. So as to credit people who'd get mad at me if I don't: the POTC movie, of course, and the "Captive" Series (romance novels written by Fern Michaels).

A gaunt Furana stepped into a mostly-deserted tavern. The fact that she was female was mostly indeterminable, as she wore a heavy weather-beaten coat and a ratty tri-corner hat, which dipped down to cover her eyes. The figure hunched over as she slumped into a chair at a table in a cobwebbed corner.

"Oy!" Furana called in a husky, yet strangely high-pitched voice. She pointed at a voluptuous barmaid. "What can I get fer two shillings?"

"Not much," she answered, smiling, "But how 'bout a rum on the house and something else later." She winked.

Furana smirked knowingly and beckoned the barmaid with one finger. "Ye probably wouldn't wanna do that," She challenged in a hushed voice, using one finger to lift up the hat so that her eyes could be seen.

"M-my God, you...you're..." the barmaid gasped, totally taken aback, stumbling backwards and blinking in surprise.

"Not so loud, unless ye want ev'ryone to hear." Furana hissed. She pushed her hat back down over her deep brown eyes which were surrounded by lush, black lashes. As beautiful as they were, they had hollows under them and were a bit bloodshot, she could hardly keep them open. The barmaid noticed, too.

"You poor dear, I'll get you that rum anyway...and some fresh bread, too. My word, you look half dead." The plump woman crooned. She shook her head as she bustled away. That girl probably wasn't a day over 19 and looked extremely wary, she thought. It was such a shame that the sea could ruin such young lives.

Furana surveyed the meager amount of people inhabiting the room. A loud group on her far right shouted and laughed. Most likely at the over-exaggerated tales of drunken sailors, she mused. A woman led a man upstairs, giggling as he slipped a gold piece into her bodice. Damn whores, always giving "respectable" she-pirates a bad name, she glowered. It was all their fault that she was dressed as a member of the opposite sex.

The last party consisted of a man staring at a half empty glass of rum (author insert-well, I'd say it was half full). She focused on him. His hair was a combination of braids, wraps, beads, and dreads and he had a hat sitting at a jaunty angle on top of his head. There was something familiar about him, jut on the tip of her tongue. The man took a sip of rum. Ah, that was it! Jack something-or-other, captain of the Black Pearl.

The barmaid returned with sustenance. "'Ere ya go, love, and what did you say your name was?"

"Furana, Fury, if you will." She murmured, staring at the man. "Now, could you tell me who 'e is?" Fury gestured at him.

"Oh, that's Captain Jack Sparrow, miss. He'll be back in port for a few days," the barmaid explained, sighing longingly. Fury thanked her for the food and took a swig of rum as the barmaid wandered back towards the kitchen. Perfect, Fury thought. I will finally be able to escape the clutches of Captain Verne, for the time being, at least. Now, how can I get a position aboard Sparrow's ship?

Captain Jack Sparrow observed the room, eyes circling like a vulture's. Two other parties occupied the small, dim tavern. One was a group of six loud, boasting men, more drunk than sober.

Several minutes before, a whore had led a man upstairs. Lucky bastard, Jack thought. That could've been me. Not tonight though, he had to figure out where to go from here. Raiding the small, Caribbean settlements had become a bore, lately. It was time for another adventure.

A lone figure sat in at the corner table. The serving maid seemed to know something about this person. Jack noticed the figure staring at him. He feigned an avid interest in his flagon of rum. Probably recognizes me, Jack thought pompously. He drained his glass.

Jack winked at the figure, who sputtered her rum in astonishment, confirming his belief that this was indeed a woman. He flung on his coat and stepped jauntily into the street, after tossing a gold crown on to of his table.

So how was it? Let me know. Send a review! Please, please, please, please send a review. I will die if you don't. Okay, maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration......or more than a little bit. This version is a bit different from the one that I originally posted due to a, er, uh, problem. Toodles, Siren's Voice


	3. Window of Opportunity

I'm so so so so so so so sorry that it took so bloody long. cringes Well, nobody is throwing things, so I guess it's safe to come out. I owe y'all an explanation…It was school! The cursed evil place! They took away my time and inspiration. They're EVIL!!!!!!!!! So with out further ado… I give you the magical chapter 3-Siren's Voice

Fury recovered from her shock. That sparrow man had just winked at her! Did that mean that he knew that she was a woman? She knitted her eyebrows together in frustration.

Seconds later, she dismissed it as the drunken tomfoolery that Jack Sparrow was associated with.

Realizing that she was going to miss her window of opportunity, she rushed out of the tavern, skidding on the cobble stone street, after thanking the kind barmaid.

She scanned the street, worried that she had missed him. Then, she spotted him. He hadn't gone far, although he'd rushed out of the tavern. It was odd, almost as if he had waited for her. She walked briskly, trying to catch up.

"Oy, you!" she called in the loudest (and manliest) voice that she could muster. Captain Sparrow swung around.

" 'O? Me?" he asked innocently (cough), gesturing to himself.

"Yes, you." she retorted, scowling. "Are you Jack Sparrow?" she already knew the answer, of course.

"Aye and ye are…?"

"Merely an inquiring stranger. I seek employment on your boat, er, ship. What say you?" Fury finally reached Sparrow and stood in front of him, one hand on her hip.

He looked her over. Her shoulder-length brown hair was tied into a matted ponytail and she sported a deep cut on one cheek. Her hat was askew and shoved down over her eyes. However, it could not hide her delicate beauty and distinct familiarity.

"What makes ye think I need another crew member?" he countered when he was done. Fury noticed that he was staring at her and pulled her coat around her tighter, being sure that it hid her chest.

"I-I…um…well…" she stammered.

" 'Ave you any useful skills?" he replied seriously, staring down.

"I _am_ a quick learner," she said determinedly. She stared him in the face, perhaps hoping to psych him out.

"No." he replied, matching her look. "The Pearl can't afford to take on another crewmember. Especially one lacking skills." He turned away and strode down the street.

Uh-oh. Fury's chance was slipping away. She began to panic. Oh, this is not good; my window of opportunity is closing.

Well, this is certainly amusing, thought Jack Sparrow. If I'm right, she'll come after me. (Hee-hee-hee. He is so totally messing with her right now. Messing with people is fun. Heh-heh.)

Fury grabbed his arm, yanking him around to face her.

"Wait, please! This is a matter of life and death." She hissed desperately, wary of the meager amount of passerby's.

"Tell me what this 'matter' is and I'll give you passage my ship." Jack challenged, shrugging her off.

"I-I-I can't do that."

"And why not?"

"I just can't." she muttered through clenched teeth, looking away. They stood like that for a couple of minutes before Fury finally turned away and stomped off in a huff, muttering and sulking.

Sparrow decided to go back to the tavern and have another flagon of rum. If the girl was as desperate as she claimed, she would find a way to board his ship. If not, then it didn't matter, she looked as if she could take care of herself anyway.

She looked like someone else, too. But at the moment, he couldn't quite remember who, exactly.

Fury glowered in a narrow alley, her back to a cold stone wall, her feet propped up on an abandoned crate.

My plans are foiled, she brooded. I'm going to die now and it's all his fault. But wait, I could hide on his ship, hitch a ride…to wherever it is that the Pearl is headed. He'd never even find out and I could surprise him into doing it if I met up again with him, there. Besides, what he doesn't know can't hurt him! But for now, I need sleep and he won't leave until tomorrow at noon at least.

She pulled hat down over her eyes (yes, even further) and closed them. Within moments, she was in a deep slumber.

Wah-ha! I finished it! Finally! If you liked it, orif not, please gimme a review. Gimme! gimme gimme gimme! now! i'm serious go review now. I mean it. glares furi(ha ha)ously. well, thanks a bunch in advance.Siren's Voice


	4. Do We Have A Deal?

The only thing that has gotten me this far (which isn't saying much) is my Trouble CD. Thank God for Bonnie McKee. avoids accusatory glances Fine, I'll tell you why it did take me so long. It was my cats. Kittens. Adorable little demons. They drove me bloody bonkers. My friends can testify to that. Well, I hope I can figure out how to…DAMNIT! Sabriel just crawled up onto my lap. God damnit! I've got to go; the call of the siren's cats is even more enticing than her own. OH! she's purring. I have to pet her. Oh, and enjoy the 4th chapter.

When Fury awoke the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky and it was close to noon.

"Damn it!" she muttered, uncurling from the near fetal position that she had assumed sometime during the course of the night. She yawned as she sat up abruptly. Wincing, she stood up.

Surprisingly, cobblestone streets and alleyways were not very comfortable. Fury would've preferred sleeping in someone's doorway as she had in her younger years. This, however, was not an option anymore.

Taking off her hat, she untied her hair and ran her fingers through it painfully, yanking out several knots. Then, she tied back the matted mess and crammed her hat back down on her head.

As a general rule, she stayed in dark alleys most of the day, for fear of her problem arising once more. However, today she could not wait for nightfall. If he was stopping in Tortuga for supplies, then he could very well be gone by high tide this afternoon. So, she set out.

It had been a while since she'd heard any tales of Captain Sparrow having sum-such new adventure. Fury knew that she had an offer for one that he could not refuse. She fumbled around in her pockets, searching for something.

Where the hell is that bloody book! She cursed silently. Finally, she touched it, feeling the textured leather in her hands. That little black book is going to save my life, she thought, assured.

She made her way from bar to bar, trying every tavern, searching for Jack Sparrow. Finally, she found him in the tavern that they had been in last night.

"Why the bloody 'ell didn't I think of that in the first place?" she muttered under her breath. She saw that he was sitting down at a table by himself. He held a tankard of rum in one hand and was staring down into it. What she didn't know was that he was once again feigning an interest in the drink to avoid letting her know that he was alerted to her presence.

Fury slammed her hands down on the table, palms down and fingers spread out. She leaned forward and cleared her throat, causing Captain Sparrow to look up slowly.

"Oh…ye." He muttered. He grimaced and took a swig of rum.

"Aye, it's me. This time I 'ave an offer ye can't refuse."

He perked up at the suggestion, but quickly covered it with a look of disdain. Jack Sparrow was still having entirely too much fun messing with Fury to give up yet.

"Really? I suppose I could spend several minutes of my time. So tell me, mate, what could ye possibly 'ave that would make me take ye as a crewmember?" He feigned a bored, casual look and raised his eyebrows. Fury leaned in closer and whispered in his ear.

"I 'ave a map that shows where the Sea Siren's treasure lies."

He pulled back and stared at her, his kohl-lined brown eyes searching hers.

"Interesting, very interesting." He said, his amusement causing a faint smile to play upon his lips and his hands to stroke his goatee. Fury rolled her eyes and produced the map. Jack reached out to grab it but it had already disappeared into the pocket from where it came.

"Ye let me on the Pearl, an' I'll split the Sea Siren's treasure with ye 'alf an' 'alf. Do we 'ave a deal?" Fury stuck out her hand meaning foe Jack to shake it. He put his hand up, hesitated, then firmly grasped hers and grinned.

"Mr. Sparrow, it'll be a pleasure working with ye."

"That's captain, Captain Jack Sparrow." He corrected. Fury rolled her eyes and sighed. "Now what did ye say yer name was?"

"I didn't" Fury narrowed her eyes. Jack Sparrow raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"It's Fur…uh…Fred-rick. Fredrick De-lan." Fury flashed what she hoped was a convincing smile. Jack just looked faintly amused

"Fredrick Delan, eh?"

"Aye." she stammered a little bit too quickly. She was a bit embarrassed by her mistake, but hopefully Captain Sparrow was still convinced. She ducked her head to hide the faint blush that swept across her checks like the sunset across the sky.

He stared at her for a moment. So, she was still carrying on the futile charade that she was a man? It was inevitable that he would find out that she knew, but that would be dealt with when it happened.

"Shouldn't we be going? It'll be high tide soon." Fury said, looking up. She tapped her foot anxiously.

"We sail at high tide _tomorrow_." He pointed out. "Since we won't be back on the Pearl the in where I'm staying is where we'll be at tonight."

"But, I'm…well, I don't 'ave any money." Fury said quickly. He shrugged, letting her assume that he was going to pay for a room. Jack, of course, had no such plan. "Right, then. 'Ow about we order some food, I'm bloody starved. Captain."

She smiled as he ordered another round of drinks and something to eat.

Do you like it? Is it awesome? It should be, as it's a bloody miracle that I've updated in gasp LESS THAN A MONTH. runs around in a circle screaming Oh my god, it's a sign of the bloody apocalypse! Run in fear of the end of the world! Oh, but before you do, could you remember to review please? Thanks a bunch. Toodles-Siren's Voice.


	5. Lemony Fresh

Well, the fifth chapter... I'd love to chat, but I have limited time. I hope you enjoy this. Really, I do. Oh, and I wanna credit the novel, "Sabriel" by Garth Nix for some of the scenes in here. And the name of the inn, I swear to god that I did not make it up. Have fun…I did.

Frederick Delan and Captain Sparrow made their way into the inn. Fury and Captain Sparrow had eaten a brief lunch, knocked about a few drinks, and then followed the streets of Tortuga to "The Sign of the Lemons". True to its name, it smelled strongly of lemon zest and all of its doors had 3 oval shapes carved into them that were presumably lemons.

Sparrow led Fury down a corridor and entered the third door on the right. The door creaked open to a room that looked as if a hurricane had recently blown through. Nautical charts, clothes, and, strangely enough, a woman's corset with the laces ripped apart were among the chaotic assortment.

"It's a bloody mess in 'ere." Fury muttered under her breath. Jack Sparrow shook his head and grinned.

"Organized chaos!" he proclaimed proudly. Fury smirked at the announcement. Holy hell! He's been here for three days and it locks like the sort of clutter that would build up after 3 _years_!

He picked up a rumpled shirt and a pair of trousers that were only slightly dirty off of the floor.

"Take these. And, mate, you might want to…" He wrinkled his nose, and then gestured towards a door on the opposite side of the hallway. Fury glowered at the suggestion, then snatched the wrinkled, clean-ish garments from hand and sulked her way into her room. Oddly enough, the door was locked. She decided to pick the lock.

In the room, there was a door on the left side of the room leading to an adjoining room. It contained a metal tub, a small washbasin, and several towel. There was a yellow cake of soap stuck to the bottom of the tub. A small mirror with some cracks in it hung from the wall.

He seems to be a bit rude, she thought, then muttered indignantly, "And I do not smell."

She looked into the mirror. Her hair was a mess. She plucked a piece of straw out of her ponytail and sighed. Streaks of grime covered her face and there was a smudge of dirt on her nose.

There was movement in the back of the mirror. She whipped around, surprising a maid carrying two large, wooden buckets filled to the brim with water. The maid dropped the buckets to the floor, sloshing some of the water out. She gasped and bent down, struggling to lift the heavy buckets.

"Oh, sorry!" Fury gushed, lifting one of the buckets.

"It's a' right. The gent' men from the room 'cross the way sent me. 'E said that…well, ye need…" She explained quickly.

"Aye. Uh, thank ye." Fury mumbled. The maid poured one bucket into the tub, then did the same with the other after snatching it from her.

"If ye'll be needing anything else…" she trailed off, and then left the room. Fury threw her jacket on the bed and hung her hat on the bedpost. The bed sheets were actually yellow, also. Though, to tell the truth, it was more of a dingy, grayish-yellow.

She stood in the bathroom and undressed. She gasped as she unwound the strip of cloth that she had been using to bind her breasts back. She breathed deeply with relief. Finally, she let loose the mane of hair from its tie.

She dipped one toe into the tub, then, finding it to her liking; she plunged the whole foot in and followed it. She sighed in content, relaxing in the steamy tub. She couldn't remember the last time she'd taken a bath like this.

She sank back for a minute. Then, she heard feminine giggles coming from a room across the hall and a thumping sound. She ducked under the water.

That man is impossible, she thought. She immediately assumed that the noises were coming from her captain's room. After a moment, she reconsidered. Besides, it's not like it is my business anyway. The thumping sound resided and she poked her head back up.

Fury scrubbed herself fiercely until she was sure that all the dirt was gone. Then, she saturated in the tub until the water had become lukewarm. Reluctantly, she stepped out of the tub and grabbed one of the towels.

She started to wrap it around herself when she saw Jack Sparrow standing in the doorway. Her eyes shot open in alarm as she quickly clutched the towel around her.

"Frederick is an interesting name for a girl…"

Sorry that it's so short, but that is the best ending for this chapter. I don't think that I could've done it better. I love that ending. If you do too, then cast your vote just pres… THE SUBMIT REVIEW BUTTON! Toodles -Siren's Voice


	6. A Mysterious Past

Helloooooooooo! I am updating…are you not excited? (Seeing your reaction, pouts) Fine, then, be like that. Well anyhoo…. Recap...Fury was naked in the bathroom last time we saw her. Have fun with this next ficcy chapter. Ta-da…

Jack Sparrow stood in the bathroom doorway with a bemused expression on his face. The girl had been entirely naked moments before and was now frantically clutching a towel around her body. She scrambled to raise it over her cleavage, cursing herself in her head. _You idiot, how could you let this happen? Close the door next time._

"I…I…I…" she stammered. He snorted, causing her to snap. "What the bloody fucking hell is so funny, eh?"

She angrily crossed her arms across her chest, inadvertently emphasizing her chest. This, of course, made Jack burst out in laughter. She fumed, her hands balled into fists.

"Never seen those before…on a man!" he doubled over, holding his sides, practically falling onto the floor.

"Well, I suppose that ye know…now." She murmured, turning away from him and walking down. Jack stood up and brushed himself off, no longer laughing. Fury's head snapped up, and she slowly turned toward him, a suspicious look on her face. Pointing at him with one finger, she glared.

"You knew, ye knew the whole bloody fucking time!" she exploded, seething. "Why the bloody 'ell didn't ye say anything?"

"Couldn't resist, love." He grinned. Fury screamed incoherent, unintelligible comments about what she thought about his joke and why she hated his guts, when he suddenly leaned in and kissed her. She froze, shocked, and stopped screaming. She closed her eyes, and then abruptly pushed him away.

"Get out now." She said quietly, but with a venomous inflection. A volatile glare followed. The moment Jack stepped out the door, it was slammed behind him.

He leaned against it and said, "I'll be needing your true story, love." He fell back as she opened the door.

"Ye're an arse, ye know that?" she said quietly in reply, then shut the door again. He nearly had to leap forward to avoid getting decapitated, then went into his room.

Fury got dressed in the clothes that he had given her previously, then sat on her bed, thinking. _He had to find out somehow, _she thought. _But he already knew! And you were played like a fool! _He probably walked in there for the mere purpose of seeing me without clothes on, she fumed silently. And he kissed me! Argh! I'd go over there and scream at him, but I need him. _Him. He's not bad looking either_...no. No. _You can't trust anyone until this is over._

She heard the clock tower in the town square chime that it was 5 o'clock. She got up and closed the door behind her, then walked over and knocked on his door. He opened it and found an angry young woman in his doorway. He adopted a curious expression on his face. Fury looked into his eyes. He stepped aside, leaned against the doorway for a moment, and then closed the door behind her.

"Make yerself…" he cleared his throat. "comfortable."

She sat down cross-legged on the end of his bed. Jack brought a bottle of rum seemingly out of nowhere and offered it to Fury. She uncorked it and took a long swig. She handed it back to him.

"I suppose that I should start with my name." She began, taking a deep breath. "My name is Furana Delamar. My mother is, was Sirena Delamar. She was once known as the Sea Siren."

"Pardon me, madam. But _the _Sea Siren? I knew there was something familiar about ye."

She gave him an if-you-don't-shut-up-I'm-going-to-kill-you look. He held up his hands in defeat.

"Yes." She continued. "During 'er piracy, she made an enemy of a man called Darius Verne. 'E swore that one day 'e would get revenge…and the Siren's blood. She was caught by the Royal Navy soon after she became pregnant with me. They hung 'er the day after I was born. I was adopted by a wealthy couple. When my adoptive father died, I was 8 years old. Their true son, who was much older than me, had always hated me and I was made a scullery maid. When I was 12, I ran away, never to return. I lived as a pickpocket until I was 15, when Verne found me. Still carrying a grudge, he's been trying to kill me since 'e couldn't get 'is hands on my mother. I've been running ever since, doing odd jobs in different settlements until they caught up with me."

She hung her head. Jack looked at her for several minutes, processing what she had just told him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before. I thought it would be easier this way."

"It's alright, love."

"If ye still want to accept my offer, then you must not only accept me, Fury, but all that ensues." She looked up into his eyes.

_Say yes._ I can't go anywhere else. They will find me soon. _Say yes. Please say it._

"We still 'ave a deal."

"Well, there's yer bloody explanation." Fury hopped off the bed and headed for the door.

Jack Sparrow lay back onto his bed with almost more thoughts in his head than his rum-addled brain could handle. He doubted that his crew would be partial to the idea of having her on board and her being chased by…that Verne. Jack had had trouble in the past with him and the crew of the "Vengeance". That treasure, though….that was the treasure of the Sea Siren. Assuredly, it would be no paltry amount of gold pieces, but a humongous trove!

And that Furana, well, she wasn't bad looking. The memory of water trickling down her naked body brought a grin to his face. He drank the rest of the rum, and then passed out, smiling in his sleep.

Fury took off her pants and crawled into bed, wearing only the tunic and her undergarments. She curled up. Then lay on her left side, then her right side, and then back onto her back. She realized that the bed was too soft, she was used to the hard streets. She attempted to pull the blanket off of the bed.

"Damn these 'ospital corners." She cursed quietly. The sheet gave away and she stumbled/hopped backwards, hitting the wall and falling onto the floor. She rubbed her ass, grimacing. Fury curled onto the floor, under the blanket, her head resting on her forearm.

Jack Sparrow knew now, but that was alright. Everything was okay. Everything was fine and in the morning, she would set out to find a solution to her problems, and to find her mother's treasure.

Was it bloody lovely? Well, I typed it up at 2:30 in the morning. I would most definitely love reviews. (Yawns) E-gads! Okay night-night. (Falls asleep and begins to snore) Toodles-Siren's Voice


	7. Meet the Crew

Damn, it's been too long. I didn't like writing this chapter. Except for the first few paragraphs, it's mostly plot moving-ahead stuff. Mild humor. You'll like the next chapter better, I think. Such a shame; usually I like the number seven. Wow, this is bad advertising. You should read it anyway just to see what happens…

Fury awoke to see two large brown things looming in her morning blurred line of vision. She blinked her eyes. When her focus cleared, she was able to see that those brown things were someone's eyes. Anticipating attack, she struck out with her fist.

Jack Sparrow caught it with a confused and surprised expression on his face. Fury opened her eyes wide in alarm when she realized that her attack was being held off, and then breathed a sigh of relief when she realized who it was being held off by. She attempted to slip her hand out of his grasp, but he held onto her wrist, studying it, almost. He could see the beginnings of a scar peering out of the skin above the cuff of her sleeve.

"That's interesting." He said, observing the slender wrist in his hand. She snatched it away and stared grumpily at him.

"Don't do it again. The last time I woke up like that I received this." Fury rolled up her sleeve and showed him the jagged scar that ran down the length of her forearm. She was surprised by the amount of trust that she was putting in the notorious Sparrow. Fury mostly stuck to a policy of don't tell anyone anything. "That was when _they_ first found me."

Although the word "they" sounded ominous, both Jack and Fury knew exactly whom "they" referred to. Fury pulled her sleeve back down and shivered. She wasn't cold. The haunting of mere memories brought the chill of fear to even her fierce heart.

Jack looked down, noticing Fury's bare legs. The blanket covered only her hips and the slightest bit of her upper thighs. She was sitting up with her legs straddles, not helping her situation. She rubbed her eyes.

Fury noticed Jack sparrow grinning and staring at her bare legs. She stood up, gathering the blanket around her toga-style and tying it around her waist. This caused Jack to pout and his eyes to glimmer in a mischievous, yet faux-mournful way.

"Come now, love, there's no need for you to cover up. I've seen much more of you than that." His eyes traveled down her form in remembrance. She saw this and pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

"Don't remind me." she mumbled grumpily. Jack turned away, smiling.

"Not a morning person, eh?"

Fury pretended to ignore the rude question and slipped on the borrowed breeches without moving the blanket. She dropped the blanket from around her waist afterwards.

"We'll need to be leaving soon." Jack said, suddenly concerned with finding the treasure.

"Aye." She replied, folding the blanket and placing it on the bed.

Jack disappeared into his room, leaving Fury to think. _I have found my way, and the Pearl is my path. I need to follow my path and destroy Verne for all the sorrows of my past. And be done with my mother once and for all. That bitch, I hate her. Had she not done whatever heinous thing she did, I wouldn't be living on the lam. _

Jack Sparrow soon reappeared with a canvas sack. Then, they left the "Sign of the Three Lemons", heading for the docks where the Black Pearl awaited. They walked in silence most of the way.

When they arrived at the Black Pearl, Fury was in awe. She went slack-jawed at the sight of the beautiful galleon before her.

"It's, she's…beautiful!" She exclaimed.

"She's home, she's freedom, she's mine, all mine." Jack explained, and then had a sort of-triumphant, sort of-creepy smile. He adopted a proud, bold stance. He climbed on deck, and then turned around to help Fury. She had already scrambled over the side, her long legs easily clearing the gap between the ship and the dock. Assorted crewmembers stopped what they were doing, saluting Jack and scrutinizing Fury. She, however, crossed her arms over her chest and glared back at anyone she caught staring. They approached a man with graying hair, a beard, and a slight weight problem.

"Gibbs." Jack addressed him

"Aye, sir?"

"Is everyone accounted for?"

"Aye, sir."

"This is Fury, she'll be joining us." Jack gestured to Fury, who standing about 5 feet away and looking around.

"Bad luck to be bringing a woman on board." Gibbs leaned in and whispered.

"Ah, but she'll counter Ana Maria."

"Ana Maria's a devil woman."

"Good, 'cause Fury's damn near a demon." Jack said. Gibbs looked over at Fury and shrugged. "Call the crew to order."

"All 'ands on deck, ye scalawags!" Gibbs bellowed. Assorted crewmembers rushed onto the main deck.

"Ah, Ana Maria." Jack gestured over a tall, Indonesian-looking woman.

"Aye?" she raised her eyebrows and placed a hand on the one hip that jutted out.

"That," he said, pointing to Fury, "Is your new cabin-mate."

Ana Maria did a double-take and engaged in a ten second glaring contest with Fury.

"'Er?" she screamed at Jack, getting up into his face. "'Er?"

"Yes, well." Jack muttered. Ana Maria looked about ready to slap him. Fury smirked at the realization that the only person in the entire Caribbean that Jack was afraid of was…Ana Maria.

"And who the bloody hell do you think that you are?" She turned on Fury.

"Might ask the same question." Fury replied, venomously, narrowing her eyes. Both stood, glaring at each other for several minutes. Meanwhile, all activity on board the Black Pearl had ceased. Every crewmember was fixated with the ongoing war between the two women. Jack cleared his throat, and the two snapped their heads towards him.

"What?" they demanded, their volatile expressions mirroring each other. They looked at one another, realizing this, and then focused their attention back on their captain.

"Nothing." He said, smiling. Then, shouted at the crew, "Back to work ye scabberous dogs!"

"'Oly 'Ell, Jack! You expect me to share a room with 'er?" Fury exclaimed. "And what the 'ell was that smile?"

Before Jack could reply, Ana Maria got a confused look on her face and said, "Holy hell? That's what _I_ always say."

"Truce?' Fury asked, holding out her hand. Ana Maria shook it soundly and they both headed off towards their cabin.

"Amazing." Gibbs remarked, watching them.

"What is?" Jack asked, distracted by Fury's rear.

"Those two."

"Nah." Jack replied, smiling. Gibbs shrugged and returned to what he was doing. Meanwhile, inside the cabin, Fury and Ana Maria were having a conversation of their own.

"So why's 'e so scared of you?" Fury inquired, sitting on a hammock.

"Who? Jack?" she pondered, the smiled. "He still thinks I'm mad about him stealing my boat."

Fury snorted. "Jack stealing a boat, imagine that."

"Well, actually it was 'borrowing without permission'." She replied, mocking him. "And then he sunk it. Its still sitting, tied up at the dock in Port Royal."

"If 'e sunk it, how is it at the dock?"

"The mast is still above water."

"Ah."

Ana Maria smiled devilishly. "I know where his 'secret' rum stash is."

"Really?' Fury leaned over, rather interested. They both looked at each other and grinned.

Later on...

"So," Ana Maria took another swig of rum and gestured at Fury's arm. "Where'd you get that scar?"

"Oh, fuck. This thing?" Fury said, holding up her arm and staring at it. She giggled, and then became completely serious. "It is a scar from my past. From one of _his_ cronies."

"Who?"

"Verne."

"Oh." Ana Maria said lightly, but looked disturbed.

"Cheers.' They knocked their bottles together and Fury went down drinking. Ana Maria returned the bottles to their hiding place, a box in a dark corner of the cargo-hold. When she was down there, she swore she saw a dark something roughly the size of a child go streaking past her through the shadows, but quickly blamed it on the spirits. She returned to the cabin and lay awake a while longer.

_If Verne was after this girl, then they were in serious danger. Did Jack know? I'll have to tell him in the morning. And why bring her aboard anyway? It was obvious they weren't in bed together; she would've been in his room, not their cramped cabin._ She looked at Fury's sleeping form and yawned. She looked outside at the moon, and then fell asleep.

Okay, it's finished. I'll get 8 up as soon as possible. I like chocolate pudding. I was eating it while I typed this up. Yummy! And if you review now, I'll give you spoons which had chocolate pudding licked off of them by Jack. And…..GO! Toodles-Siren's Voice.


	8. Magic Map

I realize that it's been a while, but I was busy with other fics and original fiction. Besides, nobody really reviews this one anyway, and it's a long way from being finished. I really need to get it done. So here's chapter 8, if anyone's tuning in.

Fury awoke, breathing heavily. The nightmare had happened again last night. She clutched her arm and signed. It was alright, gone, just a dream. At least she hadn't screamed this time. He couldn't be too close is she hadn't screamed. In the next room over, a heated discussion happened to be going on.

"But, Jack…Verne? Do ye really think it's wise to get involved with someone that he's after?" Anna Maria said, gesturing furiously.

"Told ye she was bad luck." Gibbs murmured. He had been mostly watching the argument; it wasn't wise to get involved when Anna Maria was the one you're fighting against…or with for that matter.

"Shut up!" she snapped at him, and then turned to Jack. "Well? I'm still waiting for an answer."

Did I tell ye 'ow much gold there'll be?" he ventured.

"Yes, and do ye 'onestly believe that she's _'er_ daughter?"

"O' course. And Verne, well, I have a bone to pick with 'im me self…if 'e ever does show up."

"I knew 'er." Gibbs muttered.

"'O?" Anna Maria looked at him. "The Siren?"

"Aye."

"Ye knew my mother?" Fury was standing in the doorway. All three turned to look at her. She was looking at Gibbs with a slightly bitter expression on her face.

"You knew my mother?" She reiterated.

"Well, uh, er, eh, yes." He mumbled, the words stumbling out of his mouth, tripping over themselves. He coughed and averted his eyes. Fury bit her upper lip as Jack cleared his throat.

"Miss Delamar, if ye would be kind enough to," he paused and grinned for effect, "Produce the map."

"Aye, Captain." She pulled it out of where she had rolled it up and tucked it into her belt and began to walk towards him. Suddenly, she tripped on a crumpled discarded article of clothing and fell flat on her face. She groaned as she hit the floor and continued moaning, "Ow! 'Ell that 'urts. Mmph."

Jack ignored her apparent pain, plucking the map out of her outstretched hand. He walked over to navigational table and spread it out. Fury got up and glared grouchily at his back, after all, she had only just woken up.

"It's blank." Jack said in disbelief. "I-It's blank!"

"You let 'er on the ship with a bloody blank map!" Anna Maria screamed at Jack and cuffed him on the back of his head. Jack frowned and rubbed the back of his head, where she had hit him.

"I've seen that map before." Gibbs said.

"O' course ye 'ave, it's a bloody blank piece o' parchment." Anna Maria hissed.

"The ink is invisible." Fury said, hesitant.

"Invisible ink. Ha! That's likely…" Jack snorted.

"Well, actually…" Gibbs started.

"Just get me some god damn bloody lemons!" Fury suddenly screamed above the din. Something clicked in Jack's brain; he left the room.

"Thank you." Fury told Gibbs.

"Ye're welcome. I owed it to yer mother." Fury stared at him curiously. Owed it? To MY mother? How did he know her anyway? They weren't…they couldn't have been that. Could they? Fury shuddered at the thought. Gross. That's just…ugh. Well, there's no saying that it did happen.

"This better bloody work." Anna Maria muttered to Fury. Fury merely shrugged and crossed her arms, leaning against the table with the "map". Jack returned several moments later with a lemon and a sharp knife. Fury took them from him and chopped the lemon in half. She squeezed it over the map, and spread the juice so that the entire map was damp. Soon, lines in black ink appeared on the map. After several minutes, an entire map labeled in fine, spidery writing had revealed itself upon the parchment.

"Aye, I've seen that map before." Gibbs said. Everyone looked at him. "That is most definitely the Siren's map." He made the sign of the cross.

"'Ow did ye know the Siren?" Jack asked him. Fury glared at Jack, but he didn't notice.

"I was the first mate on 'er ship, the 'Rana'."

"'Ave ye sailed on every bloody ship in the Caribbean?" Jack jested, Anna Maria smirked. The Pearl, that naval ship, that ship that they commandeered… Fury, however, was merely confused at the joke. Jack laughed and slapped Gibbs on the back. Fury figured that it was some kind of private joke between them. "Gibbs, if ye would supervise the crew. Anna Maria, don't ye, eh, 'elp 'im?" They took their cue and exited. "Ah, Miss Fury! I have to discuss something with ye." She merely raised her eyebrows at him.

"This map is very…well, love, it leads through treacherous waters."

"Aye?"

"Are ye willing to follow me through?"

"I am willing to anything it takes to escape from that 'orrid man."

"Ah, yes, Verne….and did you say _anything_?"

"I know what you're thinking…..anything _except things involving contact with you_." She looked sternly at him. "Ye do realize that ye 'ave the map upside down, with all due respect, Captain."

"What? Impossible!"

"Improbable." Fury grinned. "Actually, there's a journal that comes with it…" Jack looked at her. "It would be bloody impossible to read all the cryptic nonsense without it. Shall I?" She gestured towards the door.

"Shall _we_."

"We?"

"Aye."

They walked off and Jack put his arm around her waist. She reached over and, deftly pinching a pressure point, caused him to let go. He shook the slightly-numb hand furiously and pouted at her. She gave him an innocent smile, and then burst into laughter. As they reached the cabin, one might have seen the ever-persistent Jack snaking his arm back around her waist.

There now, that wasn't too painful, was it? I assure you that chappie # 9 is so much better. I look forward to seeing REVIEWS! I realize that no one has reviewed the past two chappies, but I'll keep on writing anyway. Ha! Ha! Ha-ha-ha! Toodles Siren's Voice


	9. Pointy Things

Hi, there, it's been a while. I just got the new Shakira CD, was ecstatic, and decided to post this. Hooray! Maybe y'all will actually review this one. Oh well. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter; I had a lot of fun writing this one. Ta!

Several days later, Fury was swabbing the upper deck when Jack happened upon her. She was on her hands and knees, wiping the sturdy wooden deck with a rag soaked in lye. The way that she went about it, inadvertently caused her rear to wiggle lasciviously, back and forth. Unbeknownst to her, her captain was rather enjoying the view from behind. After several minutes beneath his roving, lustful eyes, she arched her back and stretched rather kittenishly.

Jack inhaled sharply, in anticipation of a further display of her flexibility, and Fury, hearing this, turned around. At the sight of the scoundrel, she yelped and toppled onto her back.

"I'm going to kick your ass for…" She threatened, grimacing and rubbing her rump. She was interrupted because, as she looked up, she saw the tip of Jack's sword in her face. She looked up at him, confused and angry, as he used it to tap the cutlass that she had strapped to her waist.

"Do you know how to _use _that?" He asked tentatively.

"O'course, ye stick the pointy end in the other chap." She replied sardonically, apparently still miffed at being subject to his lustful gaze.

"And that's _all_ there is to it?" He questioned incredulously, after gasping in horror.

"Aye." She nodded confidently. Jack moaned and smacked himself in the forehead.

"No. Nope, no, no, no…" he muttered, banging his head on the nearby railing.

"That's not all there is to it…" Fury ventured, leaning over and observing the effect of her ignorance on his tortured, fencing-obsessed soul. She folded her arms and leaned against the railing next to him, her long legs crossed.

"Oh! Bloody good job!" he snapped sarcastically, clapping in mock enthusiasm.

"If ye're looking for an apology, ye're not going to get one. I never apologize because I'm never wrong." She raised one eyebrow in expectation of a challenge to her remark.

"No, no, love, that's alright." He sat on the railing beside her and put his head in his hands, moaning and muttering. Fury bent down and pried his hands off of his face.

"If it makes ye feel any better, I _can _learn." She said looking into his eyes, eyes that contained an overly lugubrious expression. He squinted, closing one eye and looking at Fury through the other.

"Fine. I'll jus' 'ave to bloody teach ye." He sighed mournfully, but was secretly delighted at the prospect of teaching her swordsmanship. He suddenly launched himself out of his seat, lurching drunkenly, then shouted, "Draw yer sword!"

Fury stood up from where she was crouched on the deck. She kicked the bottom of the sheath to pop the cutlass out of it. She caught it adroitly, the hilt grasped firmly in her palm.

"Nice trick, love."

She raised an eyebrow in response and centered herself into a fighting stance. The eyebrow went higher and a smirk formed on her lips. A silent challenge was in her brown eyes. In the afternoon light, they were alight, glowing like the amber liquid Jack loved so much.

"Let's see what ye 'ave in ye."

Fury rushed at him with her cutlass raised. He easily dodged her blade and was quickly behind her, his footwork superb. She turned to see her opponent and her lips met his. Instantly, with searing passion, his lips searched hers and, slowly she returned his affectations; her mind was hazy. Swiftly, his tongue penetrated into her mouth, hot and hungry. She turned to face him, placing her hands upon his chest.

Suddenly, her senses returned and she pushed him away. She rushed at him, enraged, blinded by anger. A minute later, Jack had Fury on her back, breathing heavily, with both swords pointed at her throat, a smirk on his face.

Vengeance occupied Fury's thoughts and she held up her hands, feigning defeat. Then, she grinned mischievously and swung her left leg around Jack's right ankle, tripping him. As he fell, he released both weapons into the air. Fury pushed herself up onto her knees, caught them deftly, and had them at Jack's throat as he hit the ground. He looked rather befuddled, as their positions had suddenly been switched. She smiled bemusedly at her victory, sheathed her own sword, and acted as if to Jack back his, but stopped at the last moment. She allowed him to get up, but had the sword back at his throat instantly.

"Don't touch me again." She said, and then handed his sword back to him. The storm raging in her eyes evanesced, replaced with a dirty sunshine. Jack was unaffected by the reaction to his kiss, but grinned at her.

"I've seen pirates cheat, but not like that."

"'Tis the combination of pirate and street urchin that makes me lethal." A reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

"Aye, love." He grinned wider. "But yer technique." He shook his head. "We'll 'ave to work on that."

"Oh?" She got into her initial stance.

"No, no, wrong again." Jack said scrutinizing her. "It…is like…this!"

He was fixing her position as she as he said, and finished with using two fingers to move her chin slightly to the left. He dashed back to his spot and got into the same, correct stance. "Alright, now, love. Look into my eyes."

She did so, pursing her lips (all Angelina Jolie-ish) and glaring menacingly.

"Now, I'm going to attack first. Look straight into my eyes, and then parry the blow." He said. "Now."

He advanced towards her and swung his sword artfully. She met it with her cutlass, then again at the top. They continued in this fashion until Jack suddenly moved to the left. Fury reacted quickly, continuing the pattern without hesitation.

"Good!" He pulled back abruptly. "We'll continue tomorrow."

He put his sword back into its sheath and turned to walk away. Within moments, he was hit with a ball of wet cloth. He looked back to see Fury back to work, looking down, her body shaking with suppressed laughter. She snickered. Jack gave her an I-know-it-was-you look and stomped off in a huff. Fury retrieved the cloth and went back to work, smiling with a lightheartedness that she hadn't felt in years.

Later that evening, Fury and Anna Maria got rather chummy in the cabin that they both occupied.

"Ye threw a rag at 'im?" Anna Maria looked at her incredulously.

"Aye." Fury grinned, then grimaced remembering the feeling of his lips on hers. It wasn't a bad sensation, but it was the bond that it established that she did not relish. Her attention drifted, and then snapped back as Anna Maria spoke again.

"I threw a coconut at 'im once." Anna Maria remarked.

"Coconut? Would that 'urt?"

"It was meant to. Besides, 'e caught it."

"Oh, 'e did, did 'e?"

"Aye." Anna Maria suddenly laughed, causing Fury to look at her with eyebrows raised. "Well, 'e got a splinter."

"From the coconut?"

"'E was cursing up a bloody storm."

"O'er a splinter?"

"'E screamed when I plucked it out."

"'E screamed?"

"That's what I said. 'E screamed like a bloody girl. Bloody great for blackmail, though." They both laughed. Anna Maria's expression turned serious. Wincing, she said, "Sorry 'bout the other day."

"I understand." Fury sighed. "But maybe ye should 'ave told me, if you felt that way." Anna Maria looked guilty. She, after a few minutes, shut the cabin door and climbed into her bunk.

"G'night, mate." She murmured, half asleep already.

"G'night." Fury said. She went outside after a few minutes, opening the door a crack, slipping out, and shutting it behind her. Once outside, she went up to the upper deck and looked at the sea, leaning against the railing. She sighed and tilted her chin up to the sky. The moon stood out, glowing mystically against the velvety night sky. The stars twinkled faintly against the midnight-blue blanket. Suddenly, she a hand on her shoulder roused her from her meditations. Without thinking, she elbowed the hand's owner.

"God damn it, woman." Fury turned around to see that she had elbowed her captain in the groin.

"Oh! Sorry, Jack."

"Captain Sparrow." He corrected hoarsely, holding up one finger.

"What…what're ye doin' up 'ere?"

"The question, love, is what are _you_ doin' up 'ere?"

"I couldn't sleep." She said simply, leaning against the railing once more and gazing out onto the black, moonlit Caribbean.

"Well, love, there's a," he began to run his fingers lightly up and down her arm. She began to tremble with the stirrings of lust, but clenched her teeth and swallowed in an attempt to ride herself of the sensation. "Great number of things I find," His eyes lit up in anticipation, "interesting to do when one finds they can't sleep." She turned to look at him and noticed the blatant suggestion in his eyes.

"What, exactly, are ye saying?" she demanded, looking into his eyes. The temptation of melting into his arms and getting lost in the pools of chocolate that were his eyes was irresistible. She wanted to let him have his way with her, and started to fantasize about having her way with him.

"I'm saying that there's no reason why a man and a woman should be kept apart on a night such as this. They should be making love." He whispered huskily, then leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips.

Fury wanted nothing more than to submit to her desires and let her problems melt away. What bliss that would be. She couldn't though, not now, not ever. She had convinced herself of lust's insignificance.

"I think I'll be leaving now. G'night, Captain. Don't try to kiss me again." she excused herself angrily and walked off.

Why didn't that work? She was about to let him fuck her senseless, Jack sparrow thought, but she pulled away just before anything happened. Why did she pull away Why would she want to? He couldn't seem to figure out how anyone could resist his obvious charms.

Back in the cabin, Fury fell to pieces; a very rare occurrence for someone of her strength and resilience. She cried silent tears as she crawled into her hammock. She had tried to forget what it felt like to want, to forget her past, and to forget the only man she had ever loved. Her first love. She had had to leave him because of that horrid Verne and her stupid lascivious mother. She cursed her mother. She cursed herself. She cursed the world as she fell asleep. The tears dried as she drifted of to dreams.

The next day she was moody and snapped at everyone, especially Jack. Around mid afternoon, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shouted at her to tell him what the bloody hell was wrong.

"No." Fury said, glaring defiantly. "And get your hands of me."

He complied and, deciding that yelling at her was having no effect, he put on a pout and begged.

"Fury, will ye please tell ol' Jacky?"

She raised her eyebrows in slight confusion, but the answer was still no. He gave her a mournful begging look, similar to that of a dog wishing to be played with.

"I'll tell ye again in Spanish…NO!" She tried to shove past Jack, but he moved in front of her, blocking her path. She tried to dodge him, but blocked her in every direction that she attempted to go in. "Fine." She threw up her hands in defeat. "I'll tell you…in there." She gestured over towards the captain's cabin.

"Aye." Jack grinned.

"Bloody twit." She muttered under her breath, walking briskly to the cabin. She opened the door and strode in. As soon as Jack had followed suit, she shut the door behind him. "Look, I don't want to talk about it, but I will say that it was utterly unnecessary for ye to _try_ and seduce me. I don't need ye bloody fucking up my life anymore than it is bloody fucked up already."

Jack looked guilty, however a small smirk spread to the size of a huge grin, lighting up his entire face. He laughed.

"You don't know what it's for."

"What?" Fury asked in disbelief. "What did ye say to me?"

"Ye don't know what it's for." Jack reiterated, now grinning wildly, and rudely wiggled his hips in a mocking explanation. Fury scoffed in disgust and then exploded in anger.

"O'course I bloody know what it's for."

"Oh? Prove it."

"Prove it? Ye want me to bloody prove it?" Fury retorted, glaring. She realized what he was going for. "I know exactly what ye're thinking and NO! I'm not gonna bloody sleep with ye to prove that I know what it's for."

"Why? First time?" Jack taunted. Fury became enraged; she started clenching and unclenching her fists.

"I'm not a bloody virgin if that's what ye think and no, I'm not proving that either." Fury stomped out of the room in a fit of rage. Jack was smiling bemusedly, then he realized what he had to do and his face became serious. He went outside to find her.

When he did, for she had not gone far, he began spouting profuse and sincere apologies.

"Look, Fury, I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to do that."

"Leave me the bloody 'ell alone." She muttered through clenched teeth. "I'm not talkin' to ye _Captain_ Sparrow."

"I really am sorry." He pleaded. Fury looked at him; his face was sincere, but who knew what he was _really _thinking. She decided to accept his apologies anyway.

"Say it again."

"I'm sorry."

"An'?"

"An' ye do know what it's for."

Fury looked at him and sighed dejectedly.

"I suppose I can forgive ye."

"Aye, love. At a girl."

"Jack."

"Aye?"

"Don't say that ever again." she walked off. She muttered something else to herself and smiled

Hooray! I really hope that somebody decides to review this. Um…I'll let Jack personally tell you "what its for" if you review. Toodles-Siren's Voice


	10. The First Clue

It's been forever. You don't care anymore. Or you aren't aware, but I'm still writing. If, perchance, someone is actually reading this, please review.

"I did it." Fury whispered excitedly. Her words gained volume and strength as she continued. "I did it. I did it. I did it! I DID IT!" She sat up abruptly, causing her hammock to spill her onto the wooden floor of her cramped cabin. "Ouch! Damn it." She muttered, rubbing her hip. "But I still did it."

She needed to tell Jack. She'd been lying in bed, restless and unable to sleep, thinking about it, just as she had every night for the past two weeks, but she had finally figured it out. She threw on her breeches and ran out the door, then bounded for Jack's expansive captain's quarters and threw open his door.

"I did it." She announced, exuberant. Jack opened one eye.

"With whom?" he pondered sleepily. Fury glared at him for the degrading suggestion, but continued.

"Not whom. What. _What_ is that I figured it out."

"What?" Jack sat up on the bed. Fury was preoccupied with lighting a lantern resting on the navigational table. She was so preoccupied, in fact, that after she turned around, it took her a moment to realize that Jack was completely nude. His clothes had been discarded on the floor due to the Caribbean heat that still permeated the night.

"Oh, bloody 'ell, Jack. Ye sleep in the nude?" She turned away, covering her eyes in embarrassment at the sight of his naked body and his…manhood.

"Aye." He grinned. "Do ye-"

"Clothes. NOW!" She interrupted his affectations. Fury stood, looking out the window, the wall, the lantern; anything to make her forget that there was a completely naked man sitting on the bed behind her.

"Ye can look now." He said. Fury didn't entirely trust him, but turned to see that he had put on a pair of trousers. She breathed a sigh of relief, but her mouth contorted into an angry scowl when he started to speak again. "Well, love, I suppose that we're even now, eh?"

"Even? Do ye lay in bed nude every night on the off-chance that I might stumble in 'ere and see ye? Tell ye what, don' answer that!"

"Or any other pretty girl." He answered despite her prohibition.

"You think I'm pretty, wait, but…never mind. Forget I said that." She moaned disgustedly, partially at herself, partially at him. She rushed to different corners of the room, retrieving the map and journal from their separate hidden locations, then spread out the map on the navigational table, placing paperweights on the corners to keep it from rolling up. She flipped the book open to the page where the first clue was. One side showed the section of the map and the other side was covered with a riddle, written in large, gothic calligraphy.

Jack was still standing in the middle of the room, looking sleepy and confused. Fury went over to him, grabbed his wrist, and yanked him over to the table.

"_In 'arbour of royalty,_

_What scares evil spirits contains a key. _

_As above, so below,_

_The next clue ye will see._"

She recited from memory, handing the journal to Jack. Those four lines had been turning about in her head for two weeks. She had, of course, seen them when she first read the journal, but they had held no significance until her quest had begun. Jack merely looked at her quizzically. "Fine. 'In 'arbour of royalty'. I thought it meant England, but that couldn't be because none of the map is out of the Caribbean. 'Arbour can mean port. Port Royal."

"Aye." Jack grinned. "But that's just the first line."

"Moving on, then. 'What scares evil spirits contains a key'. Iron, iron scares away evil spirits according to superstition. Ye can ask Gibbs, if ye want reassurance. Who works with iron? The blacksmith." Fury said, wandering around the room, contemplating her revelation. Jack liked the way that this sounded. "The key is in the blacksmith's shop."

"'As above, so below'. There'll be a marking of some sort above ground and the key is buried beneath it." Jack said quietly, smiling.

"Exactly, an' 'the next clue ye will see'. The next clue is buried with the key I can't believe it took two weeks to see that. 'Oly 'Ell, 'tis simple."

"Bloody brilliant, Fury. We'll head for Port Royal in the morning. Now, I'm…" The moment he hit the bed, he fell asleep and started to snore. Fury stared at him for a moment before returning to her room.

They arrived in Port Royal a year later or in no time at all. Anyway, the day was as clear as the fact that Jack Sparrow is, was, and always will be drunk. They sailed into a small cave within walking distance of the small settlement. After putting down the anchor, the crew gathered on deck.

"Alright. Listen up, ye scabberous dogs." Jack shouted, commanding attention to his insane, drunk self. "We are not 'ere to pillage, plunder, ravage, rape or otherwise create disturbances in the city of Port Royal. We are 'ere for the key, and the key alone. Don't think this means that ye can't enjoy yourselves, ye can. Go buy a whore or get drunk or something, but DON'T CREATE DISTURBANCES!"

The crew looked at Jack as if he'd lost his bloody mind. Well, he had, but he was certainly acting stranger than expected. Not pillage? What the hell kind of pirate didn't?

"Ye've lost yer bloody mind." One crewmember muttered, voicing the opinions of all his shipmates. Jack walked up to him and looked him in the eye, glaring.

"Captain. Ye've lost yer bloody mind, _Captain_." He corrected. All motion aboard ceased. The air was as silent as death with the tension and suspense. Captain Jack Sparrow was rather particular about his name. Although some could get away without calling him by his full title, his crew, unfortunately, could not.

"Y-y-yes sir, Captain Sparrow." The crewman murmured. Jack walked away after smiling stiffly. Motion and sound resumed aboard the lusty decks of the Black Pearl.

"We'll 'ead into town t'night."

The crew cheered, and then departed to get ready. Jack Sparrow stood, watching with an appraising eye, his hands twisting his braided goatee. Fury walked over to him.

"Jack, what 'tis it?"

"I seem to remember a few friends that are in the Royal navy. A Commodore, in fact."

"The Commodore knows ye? 'Oly 'ell. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. We're going to get caught." Fury kicked the side of the ship, and then began to hop around clutching her injured foot. "Ouch, damn it!"

"I do have an acquaintance that might help…" Jack suggested to pacify the injured and furious young woman.

"'O? The bloody Gov'ner?" Fury hissed sarcastically.

"Actually the blacksmith 'o used to love the governor's daughter."

"Fantastic."

"Fury?"

"Aye?"

"One more thing…" He leaned over to whisper a suggestion in her ear.

"No, there's no way in 'ell that I'm going to do _that_."

"It's the only way we won't get caught."

"The _only_ way?" Fury asked incredulously.

"Aye."

"Fine." She said, crossing her arms across her chest and pouting. Jack Sparrow rowed a long-boat to shore. He returned several hours later, with all the necessary preparations for tonight. There was only one more thing they had to do.

Struggling authoress praying for reviews here, so please leave one.


	11. And the Littlest Girl was Madelaine

**_Yay! I'm back! Thanks to Sabriel Silverwing, who inspired me to update with her review! (You should feel very special.) Fury will go on (cue fanfare)…so please enjoy Chapter 11._**

"I can't believe he convinced me to do this." Fury gritted her teeth, bracing herself on the wall of the twilight-lit cabin. Anna Maria pulled tight on the corset strings, causing Fury to gasp for breath like an asthmatic without an inhaler.

"Air! I need air!" she wheezed, her arms flailing about in some sort of desperate effort. She tried to take a deep breath, but failed due to the fact that the contraption would only allow a girl's lungs to expand so far. Anna Maria winced at the thought of having one laced around herself, then looked at Fury and realized something critical to the brunette's survival.

"Fury, it's not even that tight on ye." She stuck a long, golden-skinned finger in between the silky fabric of the corset and the skin of Fury's slender back. "God, ye're skinny."

Fury ceased the display of melodramatics as she looked down at her still slightly-emaciated body. The corset didn't actually restrict her breathing at all and, in fact, hung nicely on her rather gaunt figure. "It's the streets." She muttered sullenly. "Shall we go on with this fancy-breeches cat shit?"

Anna Maria looked in a wooden trunk, rummaging around and throwing out various women's clothing pieces and paraphernalia. She helped Fury to put them on. She stood back after the pieces of decadent finery had been loaded on and covered her mouth with one hand to repress the laughter, shaking her head. Fury spun around and, finding a long mirror against the wall, looked at herself in it. The dress was a horrid pale yellow color that made her skin look jaundiced and her cheeks look hollow from starvation. Blue petticoats poked out from beneath it, clashing terribly with the yellow of the dress, which was covered in bows and ribbons that magnified its absurdity. Fury had refused to trade her worn boots for ladies' shoes, but the dress was too long, even for her tall frame, and covered her feet.

"Oh dear God." She whispered fearfully upon viewing the image. She looked like the confection at bakery. Anna Maria began to chuckle. "Oh, shut up."

She stalked out of the room, scowling in anger and frustration at the fruition on Jack's rum-addled idea. Outside, on deck, Jack had been waiting for several minutes, anticipating the shriek of indignant disgust or rage that he was sure would soon erupt from Fury's lips. His dreadlocks had been pulled back into a ponytail and were hidden by a ridiculously pompous powdered wig. He had on the silk breeches and doublet of an English gentleman. He had not, however, relinquished his hat. It was doubtful that a hurricane would cause him to lose that. Fury bit her lips to keep from laughing at the sight. Jack paid her no such courtesy.

"That's a lovely dress ye 'ave there." He commented bemusedly, his lips tight with restrained laughter.

"One more word, Jack, and I will personally cut off your testicles and feed them to a shark."

"Aye." He consented, and then broke out into loud guffaws, walking down the gangplank onto the dock, hardly able to stand he was laughing so hard at the ugly confection of a dress. She followed after him, punching him in the arm when she caught up.

"Ow. What the 'ell was that for? My arm is rendered useless. Ye must kiss me to restore it to full health. Of course, **full health** would mean you getting on yer knees and…"

"Ye know what the bloody 'ell it was for." She interrupted, glaring.

"But I didn't **say** anything."

"Ye were thinking it." She issued the snappy rejoinder. Jack frowned and rubbed his injured arm. "Furthermore, ye had no grounds to be saying it; look at yerself, ye pansy."

Jack pouted, realizing that her insight was completely valid. He led her through the streets of Port Royal in the rapidly darkening twilight. They followed a confusing path through the alleyways of the slums until they reached the section where the middle class homes and businesses began to merge with the estates of the upper class. They stopped in front of a building with a sign that read, "W. Turner, Blacksmith."

"Aye, this is the place." Jack said, smiling ruefully at old memories. He opened the door and slipped in, followed closely by Fury, who glanced around cautiously before entering. The moment her eyes had adjusted to the gleaming darkness of the shop, she saw the gleaming tip of a sword abut two inches away from the end of her nose. She began to reach her hand towards her hip, only to realize that her mother's sword wasn't there. They hadn't managed to belt it to the dress.

"Shit! Jack…" She moaned, a whimper escaping from her lips. "Help."

"That would be…improbable."

Out of the corner of her brown eyes, she glanced over to see that Jack was in an equally unfortunate predicament. Deciding to take charge, she swiftly kicked the owner of both swords in the groin.

"C'mon, Jack, let's get out of here." She urged, no longer her normal fearful self. She turned and opened the door, but realized that he wasn't behind her and looked over her shoulder to see that he was helping their opponent to his feet and had thrown off the ridiculous wig.

"Sorry about that, Will." Jack apologized. Will Turner only grimaced in reply. "She's a bit…feisty."

Fury glared at Jack indignantly, and then offered a hand to Will. He shook it obligingly. She took in his curly brown hair that hung in a low pigtail at the nape of his neck. His brown eyes were filled with a warm light and despite his somewhat effeminate frame; she perceived that his height and skill with a sword made him a lucky match for any woman in this town. However, her objective was getting what she wanted and he would have to forgive her for the damage to his manhood first.

"I am sorry about that, uh…"

"Turner, Will Turner."

"Right. I, uh, I'm really sorry." She hung her head abashedly.

"Fine." He said through gritted teeth. "That's fine."

He had fully recovered by then; Fury's aim was just a tad off, but he was still slightly cross at Jack Sparrow's new friend. He turned to Jack. They glared at each other for a moment, then embraced, patting each other on the back as was custom to reassure themselves that a hug would not suffer an insult to their masculinity.

"How 'ave you been, Jack?" he asked.

"Up to no good." Jack grinned deviously. "And I seem to have made the acquaintance of a Miss Fury Delamar." He nodded in Fury's general direction.

"Aye. New whore?" He queried, referring to Jack's magnificent ability to seduce, or be seduced, by women with low morals. Fury looked shocked and enraged at the suggestion, and began to storm towards Will, hopping mad. Jack noticed, restraining her in her wrathful state and covering quickly.

"No, no. She 'as a map…and we…"

"Look here, Mr. Turner, 'ave ye heard of the Sea Siren?" She interrupted her mumbling captain, twisted her way out of his stronghold. Will looked at her incredulously. Who hadn't? "Well, we need to find her treasure under yer floor."

"The Sea Siren's treasure is in my shop?" he asked, his brown eyes huge in disbelief.

"A clue to **finding** the treasure is."

"Oh." He smiled tightly and looked at Jack.

"Really, Jack. Tell me the real reason why you're back in Port Royal." Jack made a frantic gesture with his hands, indicating that Fury's words were the truth. "So you're going to tear up my floor. And you know that the Commodore is going to find out that you're here. I'd risk my life for you, Jack; I've done it before, but…"

"So, how's Elizabeth? Alive and well, I presume?" Jack asked abruptly, changing the topic.

"She's well, yes. Her father isn't quite as doting as he let on. He decided that wasn't of the proper social class to wed his daughter, so she's married happily to the son of a wealthy spice merchant. I've moved on. I found someone truly fit for my heart. Oy, Madelaine."

"'Old on." A breathy, youthful voice called from the back room. A pretty young woman, though not significantly gorgeous, walked out several seconds later, pulling a bit of straw out of her dark red hair and wiping the sleep from her eyes. She looked to be about 18, two years younger than her brown-eyed fiancé. Her facial features were soft and almond-shaped eyes were of different hues; one of her eyes was as blue as the brilliant Caribbean and the other was a bright springy green. She was noticeably shorter than Will as she stood next to him, reaching a height of a little more than five feet. Despite her petite size, she was rather voluptuous. She blinked, smoothed down her white nightgown with its smudges of coal-colored handprints near her derriere; it was easy to see what she had been doing before they arrived, and then offered her hand to Fury.

"Madelaine Halliway."

"Furana Delamar. Ye two aren't ma-"

"Not yet." She smiled dreamily. "Delamar?"

"Aye."

"So ye're…"

"Aye." Fury answered, already knowing the question. Madelaine turned to Jack and erupted into giggles.

"Wait a minute, I know ye. Ye're…hahaha…ye're Jack Sparrow." She began to laugh, tears trickling out of her eyes. She bit her lip afterwards, trying to hold in the remaining giggles. Jack shifted uncomfortably.

"Ye know each other?' Will asked, regarding Jack suspiciously. If he had ruined Madelaine, friendship was going out the window and Jack was going to get his ass kicked. He had told Madelaine all about his friend, but had no idea that she had had relations with him beyond knowing about him.

"She stole…"

"Will, darling, I told ye that I used to be a pirate." She said, an innocent look in her queerly-colored eyes. "Well, during that 2 year period of piracy, I pillaged one his plunders, so to speak. Right out from under his nose."

Will breathed a huge sigh of relief as she nodded proudly. Madelaine was still innocent in that sense, although her mind had often wandered down dangerous paths and she could still do that thing with her tongue that he was sure she had learned somewhere devious. He loved her for her unique sense of naïve sweetness and devilish mindset. He began to chuckle at Jack.

"Actually, it happened several times." Jack said to clarify. Unfortunately, he realized too late that it only compounded his humiliation. Will was laughing and crying now. Fury caught the giggle also and soon all three of them were laughing at Jack.

"It's not** that** funny." Jack said. It did absolutely no good.

"Uh, yeah it is." Madelaine giggled.

"I was drunk." He attempted.

"Jack, you're always drunk." Will panted, barely able to breath from the tremors of laughter that were wracking his body. Fury was holding her sides because it hurt to laugh with the corset laced tightly around her. Will and Madelaine were hugging each other, supporting each other lest they fall down. The laughter slowly began to fade until it ebbed completely away. Then, they all looked at one another and it started up again. When they finally were able to stop, Madelaine faced Jack.

"Sorry. No 'ard feelings, mate. And what **are** ye doing 'ere?"

Fury explained the situation to her while Jack and Will caught up on the occurrences in each other's lives since they had last seen each other two years ago, including the psychotic tale of how Will met Madelaine and a rather disturbing story about Jack accidentally picking up a male prostitute in a bar in Europe.

"So, what does the mark look like?" Madelaine asked. "'Cause the only mark I've seen is this one." She pulled down the lace-fringed collar of her nightgown to reveal a dark red hickey on her collarbone. Will blushed a vivid crimson and Jack gave him a congratulatory pat on the shoulder while he choked over his next words. He smiled good-naturedly as his face returned to its normal color, shaking his head in consternation at his bold little fiancée. Fury laughed, producing the journal and thumbing through it until she found the page. "That's certainly an interesting little insignia."

"Aye." Fury said. Madelaine pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Let's go figure out where it is." She encouraged. They dragged the two hesitant men over and told them to start scouring the walls for the insignia. About 20 minutes later, Madelaine shouted, "I found it. Over 'ere!"

She was standing in front of the hearth with her hands on her hips. She pointed. There it was, imprinted onto the stone before the fireplace.

"I suppose we start digging, then." Will stated.

"Aye." Fury replied. "As above, so below."

One pirate, an ex-pirate, the son of a pirate, and the daughter of a siren began to dig in hopes of discovering the key to the grand treasure. Actually, jack didn't help at all, but persisted in giving random demands to the other three and barely escaping painful death by shovel as they grew annoyed with him.

Nearly three hours later, their shovels hit wood, a wooden box to be exact. They carefully unearthed the box and set it out of the hole and onto a table in the workshop, wiping bits of mud off of its sides.

"'Ell, I'm tired." Fury murmured. Her horrific concoction of a dress was now ruined, thank god, the brown mud from the earth soiling the ludicrous trappings and fabric. She wiped one dirty hand against her sweating brow, leaving a smear of dirt above her eyes. Madelaine licked her thumb and started rubbing Fury's head with it to get the dirt off until Fury fixated the small redhead with a quelling, ferocious glare and Madelaine backed off, smiling sheepishly. "Let's open the damn thing and get moving."

She lifted up her soiled skirt and reached into her left boot, pulling out a small dagger. Using it to pry open the box, she wedged it in a faint crack that was meant to be the space between the lid. After several minutes of alternate wiggling and pushing, Fury gave up.

"Bloody impossible."

"It's a matter of the right leverage." Will said, one of his favorite, self-initiated aphorisms. He grabbed the knife and put it under the exact middle of the crack and popped open the box.

"Oh, Will, ye did it!" Madelaine exclaimed, and went up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. She smiled coquettishly, prompting him to give her a deep romantic kiss on the mouth, the kind of kiss that made the other girls in the town swoon and ache with jealousy.

"It's a bloody box." Fury muttered, disgusted at the overblown display of affection. She turned her head only to realize that she was at face level with Jack's lips.

"Are ye sure that a box isn't enough for you to give me a nice kiss?" Jack asked, grinning broadly, overconfident and pompous. Fury glared at him murderously, and then kicked him in the shin. She turned away from Jack, who was now rubbing his bruised shin, and looked into the box. All that it contained was a folded piece of grimy parchment, a silver coin, and a tiny bottle of…

"Rum!" Jack cried excitedly, snatching it up.

"Sparrow, don't ye think that ye should-I don't know- SHARE the rum?" Madelaine hinted facetiously.

"Share…it?" Jack asked incredulously. Captain Jack Sparrow share rum? The idea was preposterous. He shied away.

"Fine. 'Ave it, ye selfish pig." Madelaine muttered.

"Yes, Jack just take it. After all, ye did almost no work and so of course ye deserve ALL THE BLOODY RUM!" Fury shouted. The two women were standing with their hands on their hips, glaring at him, one as short-tempered as she was tall and the other as fiery furious as she was crimson-haired. He looked to Will for help, as a savior from the feminine brutality. Will merely shrugged and gave him an I'd-listen-to-the-women-if-I-were-you look. Jack sighed and tossed the tiny bottle to Fury. She caught it deftly and popped the cork, taking a sip and passing it to Will, who passed it to Madelaine, who drank the remainder of its contents.

"Sorry, Sparrow." She smiled mischievously, her blue and green eyes twinkling. "There's no more. 'Twas a tiny bottle, ye understand."

She handed him the empty bottle and grinned. Jack turned it upside down in disbelief and pouted. Fury and Madelaine looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Will picked the parchment out of the box and unfolded it.

"There's nothing there."

The parchment was blank.

"Probably somewhere obscure like Cuba, though." Jack murmured, lounging atop a piece of the extensive equipment Will used in his occupation as a blacksmith. Nobody paid him any heed.

"Figures." Fury muttered. "She had to be difficult."

"She?"

"The Siren. Mum."

"Mum? The Siren was yer bloody Mum?" Madelaine exploded.

"Aye. Didn't ye figure it out when ye found out my last name?"

"Yes, but somehow didn't really register. Ye 'ave to go." Madelaine said, suddenly looking worried. Will seemed alarmed by her sudden preoccupation. His eyes had been half-shut with the inherent drowsiness of their late night dig, but were now open wide in concern for his love. "Do ye 'ave any idea of the amount of trouble ye're in?"

"A slight idea."

"Ye need to leave. I don't want Verne to find** me**!"

"'E's after ye too?"

"Yes, ye 'ave to go."

"Thank ye for yer 'elp." Jack interrupted with a charismatic sweep of his hand. He began to usher Fury towards the door. "Nice seeing ye again, Will." Will nodded and handed him the box and its contents. The two pirates took it and left, two dark figures fleeing through the streets of Port Royal. Then, she saw him.

A man stood on the corner of a cobble-stoned street. He would appear inconspicuous to most, but Fury knew his face well. It was a face that she dreaded. It was the face of Darius Verne's third mate.

"Jack, into the alley." She hissed and shoved him, running in afterwards. "Get down!" She hissed again and they hid behind a pile of wooden crates, confusion in Jack's face from the sudden evasive tactics. Fury inhaled sharply as if it could make her invisible to his roving eye. After the man had passed, she leaned back against the wall, closed her brown eyes, and exhaled slowly.

"Alright, it's safe now." Jack said after a moment, sensing that the man she had seen was the cause of her distress. They stepped back onto the street and didn't see him, Jack striding quickly ahead and Fury following wearily after. Fury felt a hand on her shoulder after a minute. Then, the hand twisted her arm back painfully.

"Ah! Fuck!" She cursed loudly.

"'Ello, Miss Delamar."

"Augh." She panted, struggling. He put a knife to her slender throat.

"'E 'as a message for ye."

"Really?"

"'E said it's time for ye to meet 'im," he paused, grinning evilly behind her back. "And die."

"Well." She began, breathing heavily. "Tell 'im I said 'e can go to 'ell." She elbowed him in the groin while ducking her head away from the knife. She ground her heel into his foot, causing him to let go of her arm. Wheeling around, she punched him in the face, her fist solidly connecting with his nose and breaking it. A tiny stream of blood trickled from one of his nostrils. As he recovered, he pulled out his sword and she reached for hers. For the second time that night, she was dismayed to discover that it, of course, was not there.

"Shit!" She screamed as he advanced menacingly, grinning malevolently. The word was barely out of her mouth when Jack came from behind her and ran his sword through the man's wicked heart. "Mr. Smyth." Fury looked at Jack and he looked back at her. "'E's 'ere, Jack. 'E's back. Verne's men…"

"So I noticed." Jack said and his mouth contorted into a brief half-smile.

"We need to get away, if 'e is 'ere. We need to get far away. Quick."

"Let's get back to the Pearl."

"Aye."

Together, they slipped through the streets of Port Royal, hiding in the shadows as they fled. Avoiding the light, they fled through the darkness. They reached the Pearl and set sail, shortly before dawn broke.

_**Yay! Updating completed! This chapter actually marks the end of the first journal I started writing this in. I suppose that ripping out pages in frustration amounts in less writing space. Ah well, not much I can do there. Don't forget to review. See ya for the next chapter soon. Toodles Siren's Voice.**_


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